


Gentile Introduction to Gift Giving

by cori_the_bloody



Category: Community (TV)
Genre: Annie-Centric, F/M, Hanukkah, holiday fic
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2015-12-13
Updated: 2015-12-25
Packaged: 2018-05-06 13:10:18
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 2
Words: 10,064
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/5418293
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/cori_the_bloody/pseuds/cori_the_bloody
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>It’s the holiday season, and Annie Edison is feeling down. Even her friends’ attempt to cheer her up goes awry when Annie gets troubling news about her mother. Unexpectedly, one member of the study group is particularly helpful when it comes to raising Annie’s spirits.</p>
            </blockquote>





	1. Chapter 1

**Author's Note:**

> **Disclaimer:** I do not own these characters or this universe.  
>  **Author's Note:** So, I've posted this story multiple places at different times--it's one of my first attempts at Community fic, in fact--but this is the most polished version that exists. I wrote it to explore Annie's relationship with her mother, so this first chapter is very focused on Annie and not at all very shippy. At the request of my magnificent beta and friend, Bethany, there will soon be a follow-up chapter that IS shippy. 
> 
> I hope you enjoy, and happy Hanukkah!

"You're doing it wrong."

Annie's head snapped up to find Abed, head cocked to the side, watching her carefully. "The self-pity or playing dreidel?" she asked.

"Playing dreidel." Abed answered immediately, not indulging her sarcasm. "Usually you need more people. And money."

"Toothpicks work just as well."

Abed squinted at her. "You're sad."

Annie bit her lip. Abed's unusual emotional astuteness caught her off guard, and she was suddenly overwhelmed with the urge to cry. "Yeah, I guess I am."

Abed joined her at the table, holding his hand out for the dreidel. Instead of handing it over, Annie skillfully spun the wooden toy so that it skittered across the table, jumping over the nicks. As he examined the Hebrew characters, Abed asked, "Why?"

She blinked blankly, considering if she even wanted to address the question. Before she could deflect, though, Troy emerged from the blanket fort in snow-themed pajamas, stretching his nap away. Settling into his spot at the table, he turned to Abed. "Want to log some hours in the Dreamatorium?” he asked hopefully. Annie went back to fiddling with her old toy.

"Maybe later." Abed said. "Annie's sad.”

Troy turned to her, already pouting in sympathy. "Why are you sad?"

She flushed with chagrin; she had figured she'd escaped talking about what was bothering her. But Troy and Abed were staring at her expectantly.

She took a deep breath, fiddling with the buttons on her cardigan. "Hanukkah starts at sundown," she said finally. "When I was younger, this was the time I’d be in the kitchen making latkes with Mom. My bubbe would be over making her famous matzo ball soup. Anthony would be eating gelt and not helping, of course. Dad would be passive-aggressively decorating our tiny Christmas tree.” She sighed again, homesick and hating herself for it.

“You miss your family,” Abed said.

"I wouldn't go that far," Annie joked.

"But you want to be with them right now?" Troy asked.

"Not necessarily." Annie huffed, frustrated with herself for being unable to explain better. "I just miss the magic of the holidays, I guess. I miss the time when I had a happy family. I haven't celebrated Hanukkah with—or even seen—my mom, dad, or brother since senior year of high school.” She paused, remembering their last holiday together. She and her mom had an ongoing hushed and tense argument about Annie’s college choices. Her mom had called her vapid, a waste of precious oxygen. Annie shuddered. “Obviously you guys are my family now, and I love you all. But it's not quite the same."

Troy and Abed hummed their assent, but remained silent. Annie missed the loaded look that passed between the two of them.

She stood, smoothing the skirt of her dress, and took a few paces toward her room. "I've got a final paper to write for Political Science. I'll see you guys in the morning."

As soon as she was out of the room, Troy and Abed got busy texting every member of the study group.

***

"Thanks, professor." Annie said, practically skipping out of the nursing building with a packet of course evaluations in her hand. She just had to drop them off at the office before heading over to the library for study group.

Annie positively loved the ends of semesters. It gave her a lingering sense of accomplishment, and she always allowed herself a couple days of true relaxation before preparing for the next group of classes.

Being in her third year, Annie recognized most of the faces milling around the Greendale campus. Even heavily bundled in winter garb, most of the students, faculty, and workers were familiar to her, and Annie couldn't help the warmness she felt for the eclectic and eccentric group of Human Beings. They were her friends by extension, and she happily greeted most of them by name as she passed.

This was the recipe for true Annie contentment. Last night had been a nostalgic glitch. She was in her element here at Greendale, and she had left a need for her mom and the rest of her biological family behind years ago.

“Hey, Vicki. How’d your final dance recital go?” Annie stopped in the lobby of the library to greet the study group’s close acquaintance.

“Really well. Professor Garrity told me I have dance captain for his upcoming all-white production of _The Wiz_ in the bag!”

“Way to go!” Annie said. “I’ve got study group. Have a nice holiday.”

“Happy Hanukkah,” Vicki said, waving.

As Annie approached the study group’s usual room, she was surprised to find everyone already assembled and deep in discussion.

“So does everyone understand their assignments?” Abed was asking. Annie hesitated near the door.

“I don’t get why I have to be the one who—”

“Because we need Shirley to cook. And Britta has deep-seated emotional issues regarding this kind of deception thanks to a grade-school surprise party.”

“I told you that story in confidence.” Annie heard Britta pout.

Abed soldiered on over her. “You’re the third most qualified person.”

“I could always—” Pierce started.

“NO!” everyone shouted, cutting him off.

“Fine,” Annie heard Jeff concede.

Confused and intrigued, she finally pushed through the door. “Whatcha talking about?” She asked.

Everyone immediately clammed up as Annie took her designated seat.

“Certainly not you!” Troy smiled too big and chuckled nervously. “We were not plotting anything at all.”

“Nice cover,” Abed said, eyeing his friend.

“Let’s study biology, shall we?” Jeff diverted the group’s attention with a note of finality.

After an unusually productive hour studying for the final, everyone started to pack up. Maybe Annie was feeling especially paranoid given what she’d walked in on, but it seemed like the members of the group were refusing to look her in the eye. They deflected personal conversation the entire study session, and Pierce didn’t even take advantage of a perfectly set-up joke about lesbianism at Britta’s expense.

As everyone trickled toward the door with mumbled promises to see each other later, Jeff gently caught Annie’s forearm. “Hang back for a sec?”

“Sure.” Annie leaned her weight against the table and crossed her arms. “What’s going on?” she asked as soon as everyone else had left.

Instead of answering her question, Jeff raised an eyebrow and met her questioning stare head on. “Do you trust me?”

“Not usually,” Annie said, teasing.

Jeff sighed, looking thoroughly agitated. “Well, this is an unusual request, so let’s make it one of those times where you do trust me.” He paused, waiting for Annie’s assent.

She was shaken by Jeff’s unease. “Yeah, okay. I trust you.”

“I’m going to take you to the mall for a couple hours. Don’t ask questions; I can’t answer them anyway.”

Annie felt her eyebrows rise with every word.

“I can practically hear you trying to puzzle this out.” Jeff said, smirking with amusement.

“Well, you guys are all acting really strange.”

“And that’s different from the norm how?”

“Fair point. What’s this about the mall?”

***

And that was how she found herself trolling the wings of the Greendale mall with Jeff, dodging holiday shoppers and parents escorting jumpy, sugared-up kids impatient to sit on Santa’s lap. She should have been at home, in her room, wearing her comfy study clothes and reviewing her notes for her Human Growth and Development final the next morning.

“I don’t even get five questions?” Annie asked after a brief silence, batting her eyes coyly and glancing up at Jeff as they maneuvered around the kiosk vultures.

Jeff rolled his eyes, but she could see him weighing the risk against his apathy.

“Three,” he bargained.

“Deal.” Annie clapped her hands and took a moment to consider what to ask, absentmindedly window shopping. The Star of David caught her eye in the display for Glitz, a locally-owned jewelry store. It was so glaring among the Christmas-themed chaos. “Oooh,” she gasped, trailing off their path without warning.

Jeff materialized by her side moments later, scowling and Grinch-like. “That sticky kid just asked me if I knew the way to Santa’s Workshop. Abed owes me big-time for this.”

Annie ignored him, caught up in another wave of nostalgia. Embarrassingly, Annie felt her eyelids start to flutter and tears pool in her eyes.

“Not because I don’t like spending time with you,” Jeff immediately started to backtrack.

Annie scoffed, brushing off his confusion. “My bubbe had a necklace really similar to that.” She pointed out the Star of David hanging from the delicate gold chain. Centered on the star was a Jewish character.

Jeff cocked his head. “What is that?”

“It’s a _chai_. It means life. You know,” Annie urged, “L’chaim! To life!”

“No need to spit at me,” Jeff said, smirking like he was being charming. But Annie was on the verge of wailing.

“She’d always wear that necklace. She promised it would go to me when she died, but she never got her will in order before she got really bad. Her deterioration came out of nowhere.” Tears spilled over onto her cheeks, and Annie quickly swiped them away, careful not to smudge her eyeliner.

“So what happened to it?” Jeff asked.

Annie turned away from the display and started walking again. She rolled her eyes, feeling the familiar mix of resentment and paralyzing fury that bubbled in her stomach when she thought of all the ways her mom had hurt her. “I assume my mom has it, but I don’t actually know for sure. She knew about Bubbe’s promise to me, but she really liked the necklace, too.”

“Your mom’s a piece of work, huh?”

Annie snorted in response and then stopped short in front of the Bath & Body Works. Someone ran into her from behind.

“Watch where the fuck you’re going.” The disgruntled man flipped her off as he swerved around her.

“Sorry,” Annie said under her breath.

“Holy crap.” Jeff noticed the source of Annie’s distraction. There was a man sitting cross-legged in the middle of the sales floor inhaling deeply and wearing a security guard uniform. “Is that Chang?”

At the sound of his name, Chang’s eyes snapped open. “Jeff! Annie! Thank god you guys are here!” He scrambled to his feet and launched himself into the crowd.

“What are you doing here?” Annie asked, incredulous.

“The mall needed extra security because of the Christmas rush and Santa.”

“That’s safe,” Jeff deadpanned. “They're letting you around children now?”

“Oh, they didn’t hire me,” Chang said matter-of-factly. “I just come here in my uniform and no one asks questions. So far, I’ve been able to sneak food for my hermit crabs, three watches, a scarf, and random bottles of lotion into my pockets. We’re going to be set for months.”

“Greeeat,” Annie drawled, taking a subtle step backward as Chang leaned in further and further. “Well, we’re just going to—”

“You have to help me.” Chang suddenly gripped Annie’s shoulders tightly.

“Yeah,” Jeff said. “We’re not going to help you steal things.” He pushed Chang away, releasing Annie.

“No, not with that.” Chang rolled his eyes as if that should have been obvious. He leaned in to whisper conspiratorially, “I need to talk to Santa about something.”

Annie looked over at Jeff, alarmed, but his brow was wrinkled in thought and he wouldn’t meet her gaze.

“I have somewhere to be, but maybe Annie can help you with that one.”

Annie gasped, staring down Jeff’s ear with her nostrils flared.

“Good luck!” Jeff called over his shoulder, quickly pacing away in the direction they had come.

Annie sputtered indignantly, turning to face Chang. He was smiling hugely, his eyes manic. “Oh, boy.” She felt her eyelids start to flutter again and she could almost hear her notes calling to her from where she left her backpack in the Lexus.

***

She found Jeff leaning against his car. “I will never forgive you for that,” Annie said, starting to ream him out. “That was a terrible thing to do, and I’m—wait, did you change?”

Jeff looked down at his chest shrugged. But Annie could have sworn he’d been wearing a grey sweater with a black t-shirt underneath. He’d changed into a royal blue V-neck with a gold undershirt. Hanukkah colors….

“What the hell is going on?” Annie stomped her foot and crossed her arms over her chest. She was not moving until she got an explanation.

“I know I’m fresh out of blind trust and favors, but please just get in the car. I’m going to drive you back to your apartment, and everything will explain itself at that point. I promise.” Jeff’s voice was saturated with sincerity and Annie wavered.

After a moment, she threw her hands up in the air and started for the car. Jeff was a couple paces in front of her and held open the passenger door. “Milady.”

“I will actually punch you in the windpipe,” she said threateningly before sliding into the seat.

***

For some reason, Jeff insisted on walking Annie to her apartment. Since she couldn't exactly stop him, she contented herself with pretending he didn't even exist. As they climbed the stairs, Jeff tried to break the icy silence. “You never asked your three questions.”

“I am not speaking to you,” Annie said, turning up her nose and pushing past him.

When she reached the third floor, an elusively familiar smell caught her attention. Tugging her keys out of her purse, Annie curiously noted that the scent only got stronger the closer she got to her door. Annie glanced back at Jeff in question, and he smiled sheepishly.

As soon as the door fell open, Annie gasped in amazement. The rest of the study group popped out of random hiding places to shout, “Happy Hanukkah!” They were all wearing blue and gold, a menorah had been placed in the center of the kitchen table, streamers and Stars of David hung from the ceiling, and Shirley materialized with a heaping plate of potato latkes—the source of the smell.

“You guys!” Annie immediately teared up. “This is so sweet.” She wandered further into the apartment, taking it all in. “Did you two do this?” she asked her roommates.

“Abed did all the planning,” Troy explained. “Britta and I were in charge of decorations. Shirley was on food. Pierce got some of the specialty items—by the way, why is the chocolate called guilt? Is it ‘cause you can’t fit into your jeans if you eat too much, and then you feel really bad about it?” Troy shook the diversion from his mind. “Oh, and Jeff was in charge of keeping you out of the apartment till we were ready.”

Annie turned back to Jeff, about to apologize for giving him the cold shoulder. He shrugged and smiled. “Happy Hanukkah, Annie.”

“Let’s celebrate, Jew style!” Britta pumped her fist in the air and snatched a latke from Shirley.

Annie was so happy, she didn’t even ask Britta to use the whole word.

***

As sundown descended, Pierce produced a package of blue and white candles. "It's my understanding that you're supposed to do something with these now." He tossed the package to Annie.

Shirley, Abed, and Britta quickly started clearing the bowls of matzo ball soup dregs and plates littered with brisket, latkes, and applesauce. Jeff slid the menorah closer to Annie, and she could feel her smile split wide open.

"You guys did research, didn't you?" she asked, touched.

Troy nodded excitedly. "Tell us the story of plagues and 'let my people go!'”

"That's Passover." Abed corrected, coming back into the room.

"The great pumpkin?"

"Halloween. And a Charlie Brown special." Britta said, falling into her seat and tossing Annie a lighter. Shirley scowled but didn't say anything.

"Whatever," Troy said. "I'm going to get some guilt."

"It's pronounced _gelt_ ," Annie said, pulling out nine candles and carefully placing them in the holders. When Troy came back with a yellow sack of foil wrapped chocolate, she officially had everyone's attention. "So," she said, wavering. Her family had never been staunchly traditional, so they didn't use the actual prayers. Instead, her bubbe had her own special prayer that she used every year. Annie cleared her throat, running through the basic points in her head, and then lit the center candle. "We celebrate Hanukkah to rejoice in our survival, to remember tolerance is important, and to give thanks for the miracle of the oil."

"Oh, that's nice," Shirley said cloyingly. "You know who was responsible for many, many miracles?"

"Shirley," Annie admonished. "I'm kinda in the middle of something here."

Looking properly reproached, Shirley reached out to grasp Annie's hand. Annie squeezed back—savoring this moment that her friends had worked so hard to give her—and dislodged the center candle, moving to light the two candles on the far left of the menorah.

As soon as the flame caught, Annie's cell phone started to blare from where she had set her purse on the kitchen counter.

Jumping, Annie handed the candle over to Abed. "Be right back," she promised everyone.

The number wasn't one she recognized or had saved in her phone. Curious, Annie answered. "Hello?"

"Annie?"

The voice was familiar, but she couldn't quite place it. "Speaking. Who's this?"

"Anthony. I'm calling from the hospital."

"Oh, my God!" Annie gasped. "What hospital? Are you okay? What happened?"

Anthony answered in his frustratingly even-keel way. "I'm fine. Mom had a stroke. She's at Denver General. She hasn't woken up yet. Thought you might want to know. Doctors are doing tests." There was a lag. Annie stood, shocked, in the middle of the kitchen, unmoving save for her shaking hands. "You still there? I can hear you breathing."

Numbly, Annie lowered the phone. Maybe she hung up, maybe she didn't. All she could feel were her legs moving robotically toward her bedroom.

"Annie?" Troy, Britta, and Shirley asked at the same time as she passed by the table. She didn't answer, just wordlessly shut her door and then curled up—fetal style—on top of her neatly made bed.

She was vaguely aware of the hushed voices on the other side of the door, but there was a rushing in her ears and her hands felt really cold. Annie squeezed her eyes shut and started counting quietly in Spanish.

She almost didn't hear the door being eased shut. "I don't want to talk right now, Shirley. Thanks for everything, but you can tell everyone to go home."

She felt the bed shift and lifted her head only to find Jeff perched on the corner of the bed by her feet.

"What's going on?" he asked.

Annie sighed and wrapped her arms tightly around her waist. "I don't want to talk right now," She said again.

"Fine," Jeff said, "but if you want me to send everyone home, I need a reason."

"You're a former lawyer. Make something up."

"Annie."

"PMS?"

"Abed's going to see right through that."

"Tell them I lost a pen."

" _Annie_."

"My mom's in the hospital, okay? Please leave."

But he didn't leave. At least not immediately. Jeff placed his hand on Annie's ankle and gave a reassuring squeeze.

It took her back to when she was a little, little girl. She would spend all her time reading, and her mom would insist she go outside. Annie would get herself hurt on purpose—a scrape on the knee or a bumped elbow—just to spite her mom and have an excuse to go back inside. It never worked; her mom saw right through the injuries. She'd send Annie to her room, without books, and Annie would wail loudly till her dad came in and sat on the bed, comforting Annie by gently rubbing her ankles and feet.

Annie suddenly felt sick, and she couldn't stop the warm gush of tears that seemed to explode out of her. She bit her tongue, though, refusing to make any noise.

She hated feeling this vulnerable and out of control.

Finally, after Annie remained stubbornly silent, Jeff left.

Annie held her breath till she was sure everyone that didn't live in the apartment had gone. Then she let everything go.

***

Her digital clock glowed bright green in the dark: 1:30 am.

Her mind was racing, and she had an exam at 9:15—but it just wouldn't shut up.

It kept bringing back memories.

Like the time in seventh grade when Annie had gotten close to a new girl, Kay. And when Annie's mom found out Kay got Cs and Bs in school, she threatened to kick Annie out of the house unless she and Kay stopped hanging out.

Or when, at sixteen, Annie stayed out until 11 at some coffee shop without texting her mother about it. Her mom had taken away her car keys for two months.

Or when, just after she got her car privileges back, Annie's mom went through Annie's room and read her journal only to find several not-so-nice entries about her mother. It had caused a fight so bad, Annie's mom had slapped her across the face and called her a horrendous bitch.

Annie turned on her side and pulled her pillow over her head. Her eyes were swollen and her throat was raw.

She thought about how when their relationship was good, it had been _really_ good. They went to local community theater performances together and got manicures whenever Annie brought home straight As. Annie's mom drove her to various lessons and competitions and seminars for years. They had the same sense of humor and liked to read books and argue about themes and characters.

Certain she was not going to be able to sleep, Annie pulled on her thick winter coat over her pink and purple striped pajama set. She wiggled her feet into boots, put on a hat, and tugged on her gloves.

The parking garage attached to the apartment was fairly scary at night. Homeless people often wandered in and slept in unlocked cars and there were no security cameras or other protective measures of which to speak. Feeling jumpy and unsettled, Annie practically sprinted for her car. Once she was in, though, Annie realized she was in no shape to safely operate a vehicle. Her head _thunked_ against her steering wheel. Quickly, she ran through all the options in her head. The buses to Denver had stopped running by then. She couldn't very well walk….

To Denver. She couldn't walk to Denver, but she could walk across town.

It was nearly 2:30 by the time she reached Jeff's apartment complex. It was snowing lightly, and the sky was dark gray and smoky with clouds.

Some tired looking man in a rumpled suit held the front door for her on his way out. Annie found Jeff's door easily, and hesitated for a moment before knocking hard.

It took about three minutes before she heard Jeff unlocking the deadbolt. "What the hell, Annie?" he asked, his voice thick with sleep.

She bit her bottom lip. She hadn't really planned past the walk. "Will you drive me to Denver General?"

Jeff stood there in his boxers, undershirt, and a luxurious looking robe. He rubbed his hand over his hair and closed his eyes in thought. "That's where your mom is staying?"

She nodded.

Jeff groaned and Annie was about to turn and leave when he let the door fall open. "Lemme change."

She hummed in appreciation and started to nervously pace his living room as he disappeared into the bedroom.

He came out minutes later dressed in loose-fitting jeans and a worn Columbia University sweatshirt. "Why couldn't you drive yourself?"

Annie held out her still-tremoring hands as evidence and stared at Jeff with her wildly unsettled eyes. Jeff sighed, resigned. She was thankful when he didn't ask her any other questions, like why she hadn't gone to one of the other study group members with cars. (Britta would have tried to fix things, make Annie talk to her mom, and Annie wasn't even sure she wanted to go into the room yet; Shirley had an important marketing exam at seven; Annie shuddered at the number of reasons Pierce was a bad idea.)

The snow had gotten worse, and Jeff was still half asleep. He was quiet the entire car ride, concentrating on the road. Annie picked at her fingernails and tried not to start crying again.

The forty-five minute car ride took a half hour longer than normal. It was nearly 4:00 in the morning by the time Jeff pulled the Lexus into a visitor's parking space.

"So," he broke the silence, making Annie jump. "Want company?"

"No!" Annie said, harshly reproachful. She was staring at the hospital, the strange feeling that it was going to eat her alive bubbling in her stomach.

"Are _you_ going to at least go inside?" Jeff asked when she hadn't moved.

"I-I don't know if I can." Annie's voice cracked.

"Well, as the guy who just drove you through a brewing snow storm, I'm pretty much going to demand it. But, as your friend, I'll understand if you need a few minutes."

Annie scoffed. “Consider it payback for abandoning me with Chang.”

“I had a very good reason for doing that,” Jeff said. “Seriously. You made it this far. Why stop now?”

Annie sighed, silently admitting Jeff was right, and nervously readjusted her gloves and hat. She tucked her pajama bottoms neatly into her boots before getting out of the car. When she heard the gentle _whir_ of an electric window, she turned back.

"Good luck," Jeff said, leaning over the center console.

"Thanks. No matter what happens, I don't think I'll be in there very long."

"I'll be right here," he promised.

A rush of warm air hit Annie's face as she walked through the automatic doors. She passed a gift shop and several wings requiring clearance before she found the information desk.

Annie pulled off her hat as she approached the tired looking receptionist. "Excuse me?"

"Can I help you?" the woman asked, sounding like she didn't want to help at all.

"I'm looking for my mother," Annie said, patting down her hair.

"Last name?"

"Edison."

The woman did some typing. Then, "She's in the third-floor testing center. They've got her in a temporary room. Take the elevators. It'll be down the hall past the bathrooms and on the left."

"Thank you," Annie said, her voice squeaking.

The woman grunted in acknowledgment.

As the elevator ascended, Annie felt her stomach get heavier and heavier. There was an eerie feeling pervading the hospital; it was so clinical. All the normal chatter and urgency of waking humans that would drown out the machine noises was absent. The beeping and buzzing echoed in Annie's ears, and she felt like everything was spinning around her. She almost wished she had asked Jeff to come in, if only to prove this wasn't some nightmare.

It was pretty easy to follow the receptionist's directions. Soon, Annie found herself in a darker hallway, a row of blue, cotton curtains creating makeshift rooms on her left. On her right, the nurses' station.

Annie approached.

"Visiting hours don't start for a while." A young woman, probably not much older than Annie, didn't look up from the clipboard she was scrutinizing.

"I know. But my mother's supposed to be here. Deborah Edison?"

"Oh!" The nurse brightened, focusing on Annie. "Man, you two look alike. Your mom's been a delight. She's sleeping right now. Want me to wake her?"

"No!"

"Keep it down, kid," the nurse said.

"Sorry," Annie said, clearing her throat and regaining her composure. "She woke up, though? She's going to be okay?"

"Your mom is the feistiest woman I've ever met. She's going to pull through just fine." Annie felt her stomach unclench a little. At least there was that. "If you'll excuse me, I've got work to do. Your mom's behind the fifth curtain." The nurse pointed, turned on her heel, and walked away.

Annie approached the curtain like one might approach a city dump.

Her hand was still shaking when she grabbed the edge of the thin curtain, inching her face around. She was ready to run if her mom was awake.

But Annie heard a faint snoring and saw that her mom's face was slack with deep rest. She looked older than Annie remembered—the lines on her face deeper, even in sleep. Her silky, almost-black hair was pulled into a messy ponytail, her nails were painted with French tips, and she looked naked without her usual bangles, necklaces, and earrings.

As Annie got slowly closer, she could smell the familiar perfume.

Even though she fought violently against it, the smell pushed her over the edge. She burst into tears, sobbing into the arm of her coat to muffle the sound. She started to back toward the curtain, overwhelmed with the conflicting desires to lash out by beating on her mother's sleeping body and to curl up beside her on the bed.

It was too much. Annie had to leave.

She bolted from the room, running for the elevators.

As promised, Jeff was still in the car. He had curled up against the window, asleep.

The sound of Annie opening the door woke him up. "How'd it go?" he asked blearily.

Annie hadn't quite composed herself, and she laughed maniacally at his question. "I hate her." Following her outrage, she punched Jeff's dashboard hard. She felt her knuckle crack, but the pain felt good, focused. A welcome diversion.

“Whoa there,” Jeff said, smoothing his hand over the car as if to comfort it. “What happened?”

Annie slumped in her seat. “Nothing really. She just makes me feel so powerless. She spent years conditioning me to believe she owned my life. She made all my decisions and threw a fit when I showed even the slightest signs of autonomy. She never let anything get in the way of her perfect vision for me—not even the pill addiction—and I hate her.”

“Did you say any of this to her?”

“She was asleep,” Annie admitted begrudgingly.

“ _Annie_.”

“Oh, please,” she said, rounding on him. “You have absolutely no right to sound put out with me. Remember that time you beat up Pierce for impersonating your father? It’s not like you express your feelings healthily.”

“Pierce deserved that.”

“Maybe. But you still don’t get to criticize how I handle my mother.”

“Granted,” Jeff said, and then put the Lexus in gear to start their journey back toward Greendale.

The world was dark and quiet. Intimate. Mystical. Nothing that happened at this hour counted in real life.

“Thank you,” Annie said after a while. “You know, for driving me…and putting up with my ridiculous inability to get it together.”

“It’s not ridiculous.” Jeff’s voice was soft. “Parents fuck us up.”

“You know what the worst part is?”

“What?” Jeff chanced a glance at Annie. She was watching his hands on the steering wheel, but she could feel his gaze on her.

“No matter how much I tell myself she doesn’t matter—and no matter how happy I am with my life right now—it still hurts like hell. Have you ever read Sarah Dessen?”

Jeff snorted at the strange question. “I don’t even read what I have to for class. What do you think?”

Annie nodded, expecting this. “She’s a young adult author. I used to read her books over and over and over again. Want to know why?”

“Sure.” Jeff smiled at her as he merged slowly onto the highway, carefully avoiding patches of ice.

“I wasn’t into it for the high-school romance. No, I was fawning over the mothers in her books. Their understanding. The mutual respect in every mother-daughter relationship. I wished so hard that I could be swallowed whole by the story, that I could trade my mother for any of those fictional moms.”

Jeff didn’t answer for a while, and Annie turned to stare out the window at the blurred trees and hills. She discreetly wiped away her leaky tears.

“I was the same way with TV," he said finally. "I used to pretend all the imparted fatherly wisdom was just for me.”

Annie hummed in understanding and gently squeezed Jeff’s knee. He didn’t protest, so she didn’t move her hand.

“I think that’s valid, though,” he continued. “Who cares if those parents weren’t real? They gave us something real, you know?”

Annie leaned over the console to rest her head on Jeff’s shoulder. Unexpectedly, he gave her a quick kiss, right on the top of her head.

“I wonder why we’ve never talked about this before,” she mused.

“Because I make a pointed effort not to talk about it with anybody.”

“Oh, right,” Annie said. “Come morning, we’re going to pretend this never happened, huh?”

“Not necessarily. Let’s just not tell the rest of the group.”

“Deal.” Annie lifted her head and checked her cell phone. She would have just enough time for a quick nap and review session before her exam.

“So,” Jeff said, breaking the extended silence. “Did you really only read Sasha Denise, or whatever, for the mother-daughter relationships?” He was smirking knowingly.

Annie blushed and absentmindedly twisted a strand of her hair around her finger. “The romance didn’t hurt, either.”

“I thought so.”

He sounded so proud that he’d figured her out, and it made Annie want to say all kinds of things that wouldn’t be appropriate: even during their private, un-share-able nighttime car ride.

***

“How did you do?” Shirley met Annie outside her Human Growth and Development exam.

“The mnemonic devices you gave me really helped. I definitely got an A,” Annie said. “How was marketing?”

They started toward the library for study group. “Piece of pie. Speaking of, this morning Andre and the boys…”

Annie listened to Shirley’s story, the words fuzzy in her brain. She was so tired that her mind kept wandering back to her bed.

Even through study group, as she was leading the final review of the biology material, Annie found her focus drifting in and out.

“You look like you could use a nap,” Jeff said, leaning in close to speak in her ear as they walked out of the study room.

“I certainly wouldn’t say no to one,” Annie said, yawning.

Jeff tossed her the keys to his car. “The backseat of the Lexus is really quite roomy. You have at least an hour.” Annie must have looked bewildered. “Consider it a Hanukkah present.” His eyes twinkled mischievously.

“Um, okay?”

He didn’t respond to her questioning tone, just turned and walked away.

Confused and intrigued, Annie wandered out to the parking lot. When she finally found the car, Annie unlocked it gingerly, not sure what to expect. As she crawled into the backseat, Jeff’s comment suddenly made more sense.

A yellow jewelry box was sitting on the upholstery. Annie lifted the lid.

Nestled in the velvet, dangling from the delicate gold chain, was the Star of David pendant, the _chai_ posed right in the center.

Thankful Jeff hadn’t followed her out, Annie felt herself tear up, touched beyond words. She removed the necklace from the box and put it on.

Maybe the study group would never be her biological family, but they knew her just as well. They cared about her and cared for her. What more could you ask for in a family, chosen or otherwise?

Annie sighed, closed her eyes, and drifted off toward sleep, lingering on her new and improved Hanukkah memories.


	2. Chapter 2

**Notes for the Chapter:**

>  **Disclaimer:** I do not own these characters or this universe.  
>  **Author's Note:** Here it is, the anticipated followup! Thank you to the magnificent Bethany for being my beta for this story and for all my stories. If there is one person I'm grateful to have met and gotten to know in the last year, it is you. You make me a better writer, and you are a trusted and dear friend. Seriously. I could never thank you enough.  <3

Though Annie really wanted to thank him for the thoughtful present, Jeff was elusive after their Biology final. He met the rest of the group out in the hall, but quickly ran off after getting his keys back from Annie.

"Where's the fire?" Britta called after him.

"There's a fire?" Pierce asked, looking around in alarm.

"I think he has another final," Abed said.

Annie watched his retreating form, worrying at her lip. She was pretty sure she saw him blushing when he caught sight of the star pendant on the chain around her neck, but there was always the chance she was playing up insignificant details in her head.

“So, I’ll see you all tomorrow at 7 o’clock?” Shirley asked, breaking Annie out of her reverie.

“Right,” Annie said. “Merry Semester party at our place.”

“I’m bringing pie,” Shirley said.

“Abed and I got one of those small artificial trees with the finals week allowance my mom gave me. I feel naughty…but also nice,” Troy said.

“I could supply you with an angel tree topper,” Shirley offered a little too enthusiastically as the group headed for the parking lot.

“We already decided to use one of the Jewish stars. Decoration recycling,” Troy said.

“You would think,” Pierce said, “a Jewish star would have fewer points instead of more.” When the other members of the group glared at him, he decided to make it worse by adding, “Because they’re stingy with everything. Especially money.”

“Okay,” Britta said, hooking her arm through Annie’s in support and breezing on to a different topic. “Well, I have a bottle of vodka at home with my name on it. Finals were rough this year, and I want to start forgetting everything I learned as soon as possible. Later, people!”

“I’ve got to get home and start baking,” Shirley said as she departed.

“I’m going to finally figure out how online shopping works and buy a bunch of Christmas presents for my favorite person…me,” Pierce said, and walked off with a wave.

“You okay?” Troy asked Annie once everyone else had gone. “You look a little out of it.”

“Had a rough night,” Annie explained. “I’m going to go home and collapse in bed.”

“Hey, you never did tell us about the phone call you got yesterday,” Troy said, his eyes softening with concern.

Annie ducked her head, letting her hair fall into her face. “It was nothing.”

“You sure?” Troy pressed. “It didn’t seem like nothing.”

“It was a family thing. It doesn’t matter now, though.”

“Oh, okay.”

“Troy and I are going to hang out on campus for a while,” Abed said after Annie didn’t say anything for several seconds. “The dean is going to parade around as Mr. Winter later, and I want to be there when it goes awry.”

“See you later?” Troy asked.

Annie nodded. “Have fun.”

They went their separate ways, Annie fidgeting with her new necklace as she walked dazedly through the parking lot trying to remember where she’d parked her car.

***

The next day, after an afternoon of preparation—and one scary electrocution mishap wherein Troy destroyed a string of lights and a pair of pants—apartment 303 was ready for the study group’s Christmas party.

“I think the only thing missing is some traditional song stylings,” Abed said, surveying their work. They’d left the Hanukkah streamers hanging from the ceiling, lined the walls with lights (after Annie had run out and gotten more), and assembled the tree so it’d be ready for decorating.

They also left the menorah out on the kitchen table, and Annie had lit the fourth candle as soon as the sun went down.

“I have a CD of beloved Disney characters singing Christmas classics,” Troy said.

“I know, I was there when you bought it,” Abed said, his tone making it clear that he wasn’t particularly interested in playing it.

Annie rushed into her room after lighting a few scented candles and came back with her laptop. “I’ve got the music covered. I made a playlist weeks ago.”

As soon as “It’s Beginning to Look a Lot like Christmas” started playing, there was a knock at the door.

“I have desserts,” Shirley said, letting herself in and heading straight for the kitchen. Annie followed after her to help unload.

“I can feel you watching me,” Annie said as she unpacked a bag of neatly wrapped presents.

“Are you ready to talk about why you left the celebration of _your_ religion?”

“Wanna try that again with less judgement?” Annie asked, turning around and crossing her arms over her chest.

Shirley winced. “What I meant to say was, you must have had a good reason for ending our Hanukkah party early. Do you want to talk about it?”

Annie sighed and fiddled with the decorative ribbon on a package addressed to Britta. “It was a family thing…my mom was in the hospital, but she’s going to be fine.”

“Oh, sweetie, I’m sorry. Did you talk to her?”

“No, I…I didn’t want to.”

Shirley frowned and squeezed Annie’s shoulder. “You know, the older your mother gets, the more she’ll have medical problems. It might be time to open up communication with your family.”

“I really don’t think that’s going to happen,” Annie said over the sound of someone knocking on the door. She shrugged off Shirley’s comforting hand and moved away. “Besides, they’re the ones who choose not to communicate with me, not the other way around. If any opening is going to happen, it’ll have to be on their side.”

Annie turned, starting for the door and just missing Shirley’s frown, but Abed beat her to it and let Britta and Pierce inside.

“Winter break, bitches!” Britta shouted, clearly intoxicated, as she pulled Abed into a hug, which he reciprocated unenthusiastically. “Are you ready to get down like Pagan-town?”

Shirley scoffed from the kitchen. "Are you going to let that go?"

"Not this year," Britta said cheerily.

“Pagan-town,” Troy said. “Is that south of here?”

“I swear, every time I learn the new slang, you kids come up with another wacky catchphrase, and it’s like you’re speaking another language again,” Pierce said, shaking his head and joining Troy at the kitchen table.

“Well, in this single case, the language barrier is not because you’re old, Pierce. It’s because Britta’s a dumb drunk.” Jeff, smirking, walked through the still-open doorway holding a handful of colorful envelopes.

“I’d rather be dumb than mean,” Britta retorted, sticking her tongue out at him.

“You’re a pretty balanced mixture of both actually,” Abed said, shutting the door as Jeff ventured into the apartment.

Thank you. Wait! Hey!”

Jeff sniggered, and then looked around, taking in the decorations. “Nice lights.”

“Aren’t they?” Troy smiled. “Decorating for Christmas is the best. Nobody tell my mom I said that.”

“I brought gifts,” Jeff said, holding up the cards as evidence. “Where are we putting them?”

“Aw, man, I didn’t know this was a gift thing,” Britta said.

Annie rolled her eyes a little. “We’ve only been talking about it for weeks.”

Britta pouted out her lower lip and flopped down into Troy’s lap. “Well, then you guys better be prepared to accept half-full bottles of alcohol.”

Annie heard Jeff struggling to hold in laughter, and her eyes found his. He smiled warmly, and she felt a pleasant heat rise in her cheeks.

“I think we’re willing to accept IOUs,” Shirley said to Britta, her lip curling. She grabbed Jeff’s cards as she walked over to the tree with her own packages.

“So, do you guys want to eat first or decorate the tree?” Annie asked the group.

After a vote, Shirley, Annie, and Troy started bringing food out to the table while everyone else found their seats. The menorah was moved to the windowsill, and a bottle of wine was emptied into everyone's glasses.

“There’s also spiked eggnog in the refrigerator,” Troy said excitedly, setting some garlic bread on the table as he sat down. “Since this is my first holiday season in my own place, I decided to go all out.”

“You know, Troy, if you wanted to embrace the holiday spirit, you should have told me while we were still living together. I would have dressed up as Santa for you and everything!” Pierce said.

Annie shuddered at the mental picture.

“Oh no, what a missed opportunity,” Troy said mechanically.

“I was hoping you’d say that!” Pierce sprang to his feet. “I’ll be back. I’ve just got to run to my car.”

“Oh, that can’t be good,” Shirley said, shaking her head and clutching her cross necklace.

“I have a feeling I’m going to need more alcohol than this.” Jeff squinted critically at the wine in his glass.

Moments later, Pierce burst back into the apartment wrangling a long garment bag all the way to the bathroom. “Abed, get your camera!” he called from behind the closed door.

Abed blinked a few times before disappearing into the blanket fort.

“Okay, if any of you need therapy after this, I am totally available,” Britta said.

Jeff groaned and took a healthy gulp of wine.

“Hoes, hoes, hoes!” Pierce jumped out of the bathroom in a red suit that bunched in all the wrong places and a fake beard that had already unhooked from around one of his ears. “Hey, where’s Abed? He’s missing my big entrance.”

“Rats, I seem to have misplaced my camera,” Abed said flatly from his bedroom.

“You know the phrase is ‘ho, ho, ho,’ right?” Britta asked, scowling.

“Never correct Santa.” Pierce pointed a finger at her. “Now you’re on the naughty list.”

Britta glared at him. “Which would be disappointing if I were six years old.”

“Pierce, just sit down,” Annie said. “We’ll get pictures of you in front of the tree after dinner.”

Effectively placated, he reclaimed his place at the dinner table as Abed came out of the blanket fort.

"So what are everyone's plans for break?" Shirley asked. "I'm putting on my church's live nativity…if anyone's free, I'm sure I could find a part for you."

"Hard pass," Jeff said.

"Yeah, I'm definitely going to be too busy getting my blood-alcohol levels back to normal," Britta said.

"That takes all break?" Abed asked.

"It does the way I do it."

"Abed and I are sticking with our holiday tradition of nonstop video games and tomfoolery," Troy said, bouncing in his seat excitedly.

"What are you getting up to, Annie?" Jeff asked.

She glanced over at him and cocked an eyebrow. "Oh, you know, the usual. Preparing for next semester, putting a dent in my reading list, and working a few shifts at the local soup kitchen."

"Do you ever even sleep?" Britta asked.

"She gets cranky if she doesn't get at least five or six hours," Abed confirms.

"No, I get _cranky_ when people host late-night talk shows right outside my bedroom at two in the morning."

"A talk show is being hosted in your guys' apartment and you didn't invite me to be a guest?" Pierce asked indignantly.

"She's talking about Troy and Abed's dumb, fake show," Jeff said.

"Oh, right…well don't think I'm not upset that I've never been invited to star on that, either!"

"We have a very specific target audience," Abed said. "You wouldn't appeal to them."

“But I’m fun for all ages!”

Britta’s eyes went wide, overwhelmed with the possible responses, and she took a large gulp of wine…only to spit it back in the glass in a fit of laughter.

“What?” Pierce demanded. “What was funny about that?”

Jeff smirked gleefully into his plate of food. “Don’t worry, Pierce. Britta’s just drunk.”

“We’re laughing with you,” Annie assured him.

Shirley giggled and raised her glass. “Happy holidays.”

Everyone picked up their own beverage—though Pierce did it a little reluctantly—and repeated her. “Happy holidays!”

***

Later—as Shirley and Britta argued over the tree topper and Abed took pictures of Troy making funny faces behind Pierce—Annie approached Jeff, who was leaning in the doorway to the Dreamatorium and typing on his phone.

“Hey,” she said, nudging him in the side with her elbow.

He looked at her over the top of his phone and smiled slyly. “Hey.”

“You never let me properly thank you.”

“For what?” he asked, but his eyes flickered down to the Star of David she was still wearing.

Annie didn’t miss the movement. “Come on, there’s no need to pretend like it wasn’t you,” she said.

“I have no idea what you’re talking about.” He quirked an eyebrow at her.

“Fine, we'll play it your way.”

"Good."

God, he was impossible. "Then while we’re here," she said, goading, “I’ll just berate you for leaving me alone with Chang at the mall the other day.”

Jeff pocketed his phone and crossed his arms over his chest. "Hey, that's a real nice necklace you’ve got there."

Annie let out one disbelieving laugh before clutching the pendant in her fist and looking up at Jeff from under her eyelashes. "It means a lot to me," she said, holding his eye contact.

Jeff nodded once, a smile playing on his lips. "I'm glad."

Annie shook her head at his blasé attitude and rolled her eyes toward the ceiling. The sprig of mistletoe hanging from the doorframe almost didn't register, but once she realized what it was, she felt blood rush to her face.

Jeff, curious as to what elicited such a reaction, glanced up, too. "Oh," he said.

Annie met his gaze and the color in her cheeks darkened. "Troy must have put that there. He's been really gung-ho about the whole Christmas decorating thing."

"I'd gathered," Jeff said, his eyes focused on her lips.

"It's not like we're bound by tradition or anything," she said softly, slowly rising onto her tip-toes.

"Of course not. What, are the Christmas police going to come after us if we don't…?" He trailed off and leaned in tentatively.

Just as Annie's eyes were fluttering closed, her phone started to vibrate in the pocket of her cardigan. She jerked back. "Sorry," she said, looking at the screen.

Unknown caller.

Again.

Her face went white.

"Something wrong?" Jeff asked.

"No, but I should…excuse me."

Annie had a bad feeling and her heart was pounding too fast in her chest as she slipped out into the hallway.

"Hello?"

"Oh, look who decided to be accessible today." Her mother's honeyed voice rang in her ear.

Annie bristled, immediately standing up straighter. "What do you want?"

"No 'how are you, my dear mother'? Anthony told me he called to tell you what happened. You're not the least bit concerned about me, are you?"

Annie's fist clenched around her phone and she moved away from the apartment door. "You lived. That's all I needed to know," she hissed.

"Watch your tone with me, young lady."

Annie's nostrils flared, and she stopped by the window at the end of the hall. "You can't order me around anymore, remember?"

"No matter what's happened in our past, I'm still your mother. You will regard me with respect."

"You're not entitled to my respect, and it’s not like you've done anything to earn it."

"Right, I only cared for you for 18 years."

Annie's entire body was quivering with adrenaline and rage. "Oh, drop the long-suffering mother act. I wouldn't exactly call what you did 'caring'."

"I gave you and your brother everything, and you cut me out of your life. The suffering is hardly an act."

"Shut up," Annie screeched, and then looked back at the door for apartment 303. No one popped their head out, but she moved for the stairs just in case. "Just shut up, okay? I don't know why you've suddenly decided to breach three years of silence, and I don't really care.”

Her mom made an affronted huffing noise. “You know why I called. I had a stroke just a few days ago, and you didn’t even call to see if I was okay.” There was a moment of tense silence, and when she spoke again her voice broke. “Do you care about me at all anymore?”

Annie stopped her pacing of the front lobby, frozen by the question. “I don’t…I don’t know what you want me to say to that,” she said finally.

“Yes, you do,” her mother whispered.

Tears welled in Annie’s eyes and she took a shaky breath. “I do. I care. But that isn’t enough for me to want a relationship with you. Do you understand that?”

Her mother continued to whisper, her voice thick. “I did my best, Annie. All I could do was my best.”

“Yeah, well, sometimes that’s not enough to redeem you.”

Her mother’s heavy sigh reverberated in Annie’s head. “I understand. I still love you, sweetheart. Have a happy holiday.”

“ _Chag sameach_ ,” Annie said. Happy holiday.

Once the line went dead, Annie fell back against a wall, closed her eyes, and counted to ten.

When that did nothing to settle her raging emotions, she stepped outside. She was wearing a thick, cable knit cardigan, but the chill in the air seeped through to her skin easily.

The sharpness of it was welcome, helped her clear her head.

She ended up on the second level of the parking garage. She hoisted herself onto the solid concrete ledge and dangled her feet over the street below. A couple tears spilled over as she let her mind go all unfocused, loosey-goosey so she wouldn’t feel the impact of the conversation she just had.

It was so cold, the wet tracks on her face dried in a manner of minutes.

She was out there long enough for her hands to go numb before Jeff found her.

“There you are,” Jeff said, sighing with relief as he jogged up. “You’ve been out here over thirty minutes. People started to get worried.” He gracefully lifted himself onto the ledge and then pulled out his phone. “Just going to let Troy know you didn’t die.”

“You can do that by going back inside,” Annie pointed out, not looking at him.

“Yes, but if I did that, then I couldn’t talk you into opening up to me.”

“Because you’re always so welcoming of honest conversation,” she said snidely.

“I am when it’s with you,” he said quietly.

That effectively shut down Annie’s attitude.

She glanced over at him in surprise, and he smiled gently at her. “Let me guess: more family stuff.”

“My mom called to guilt me about not checking in to see if she was okay.”

Jeff winced. “Wow.”

Annie nodded and went back to staring at the street below. “I hear her voice, and it’s like I flash back to being the person I was when I was in high school. That person had redeeming qualities, certainly, but I hated being her then…I sure as hell don’t want to become her now.”

He placed a warm palm between her shoulders and rubbed gently. Annie relaxed into the gesture, and Jeff scooted closer.

“You’re never going to be that person again,” he said. “She doesn’t even exist anymore.”

“Doesn’t she? I may have done a lot of growing up, but that person I was—that person I let my mother make me into—she’s still my foundation. Everything I am from now on is a product of who I was.”

“I guess…but it’s not like you can suddenly just take back years of change. You are who you are now, and you can’t erase the steps you took to become who you are. You’re both—not one or the other.”

She laughed without humor and let her head fall to Jeff’s shoulder. “You’re right.”

“I know,” he said low in her ear, playful smugness coloring his tone.

Annie pinched his side and then frowned. “Sometimes I think I’m being selfish.”

“You? She of shared notes and hours clocked at the soup kitchen?”

“Yes, me,” she said. “Me of the estranged family. People are always urging me to repair my relationship with my parents because ‘family is sacred’ or it’s ‘all that we have’ or something like that. It’s always frustrated me, but then I think of kids…kids like you…who never got to have the complete family package. And what if they’re right? What if I’m spitting in the face of something I should honor, that other people would kill to have?”

“That’s absurd.”

Annie lifted her head to glare at Jeff. “I’m being serious!”

“So am I. That’s absurd. Your mom mistreated you, Annie. Who the fuck cares if she’s your mother? People don’t get to treat other people the way she treated you and get away with it. At least they shouldn’t, anyway.”

She didn’t say anything, just watched her hands fiddle with a button on her sweater.

“Hey,” Jeff said softly, coaxing her to look at him with a tender hand on her chin. The contact was familiar and made her heart speed up. “You are a caring and intelligent person, and you deserve respect,” he said, his gaze boring into her.

Her eyelids quivered and her lips parted as she gave a quiet hum of appreciation.

He focused on her mouth, and when he looked back into her eyes, there was a question there.

She nodded once, and then his lips were on hers.

They were soft at first, undemanding and respectful. His mouth was warm and his chin was scratchy against her cold skin and he tasted sharp, like wine and spearmint. But as soon as she gripped his neck with both hands, the chilled pads of her fingers pressing insistently into the sensitive skin, he seemed to lose control. He smoothed her chapped lips with his tongue and traced his fingers teasingly down her spine.

After a couple moments kissing him from an awkward angle, Annie maneuvered her body onto his lap—straddling him—and clung close, wrapping her arms around his waist and squeezing his hips between her knees.

Jeff let out a barely-restrained groan as he shifted his balance in synchronization with her and tangled one large hand in her hair. He placed the other one firmly on her lower back, pushing her down into him.

She panted into his open mouth and slipped her hands under the puffy layer of his jacket to better feel the muscular expanse of his back. The warmth of his skin stung against the frozen palms of her hands, but it wasn’t painful.

“This is dangerous,” Jeff gasped out when Annie pulled her mouth away from his to nibble at his ear.

Annie pulled away, her eyes flashing severely. “Christ, Jeff, I am about to turn 21, and no one is going to tar and feather you for kissing me!”

He laughed and tucked a strand of hair behind her ear. “I was referring to the fact that we’re hanging out on a second-story sill.”

“Oh,” she said, pouting out her lower lip. He smirked and nipped at it, setting off another round of kissing.

“Seriously though,” he said, breaking away after a few seconds. “We should go back inside. You’re practically an ice cube.”

She nodded and carefully moved so she was sitting next to him again. Jeff took one deep breath and then lowered himself down to the ground. Annie followed suit.

“So,” she said as they walked in the direction of the front door. “Should we talk about that?”

He shrugged. “Not too much to talk about. I really care about you, and if we could do what we were just doing regularly, then I’d be one damn lucky guy.”

She beamed up at him. “That arrangement works for me.”

“So it’s settled. We’re makeout buddies.”

Annie scoffed and smacked him in the chest. “Jeff!”

He snickered and then stopped, a serious look on his face as he grabbed ahold of her shoulders. “Do you need a formal declaration?”

She jerked up her chin. “Well, it’d be the least you could do. Ambiguity and I don’t get along very well.”

“Fine. Annie Edison, would you date me?”

She squinted at him. “‘Date me’ lacks your usual grace, but yeah, alright.”

“Yeesh,” he said as they started walking again. “Tough audience.”

She smiled to herself.

Just before they reached the door to the apartment, Annie stopped him again. “Hey, thanks. For being there for me.”

Jeff brushed his thumb lightly across her cheek. “Anytime. Anything…probably. Within reason.”

She rolled her eyes and grasped at her necklace. “Whatever, Winger. I got you wrapped around my finger.”

He shrugged a single shoulder, conceding this.

“Happy Hanukkah to me,” she purred.

“Eight days of gifts, right?” he asked, reaching for the doorknob. “Just wait till you see what I have planned for tomorrow.”


End file.
